


There and Wed Again

by bagginshieldhappiness



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Dragon Sickness, Dwarves have ridiculously long wedding ceremonies, Extended acorn scene complete with heart eyes, Gandalf is a sly bastard, Happy Ending, In the Beginning, Love sickness, M/M, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Thranduil is ready to throw a tantrum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:35:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagginshieldhappiness/pseuds/bagginshieldhappiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He looked now between the dwarf king's smug smile and Thranduil's silent rage.  A wedding and a battle were beginning all at once."</p><p>Thorin demands more of an explanation from Bilbo when he reveals himself as the thief of the arkenstone.  What happens after that is shocking.  Featuring pissed off elves, ridiculously long wedding ceremonies, and plotting wizards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be at least two chapters long, possibly more. I have this story plotted out and I'm pretty excited about it. The rating may go up in the future. Do excuse any errors and I hope everyone enjoys it!

_"Do not speak to me of loyalty!"_

 

Bilbo had felt his breath freeze at the torn and wounded expression of the dwarf standing before him.  He was faced with the sight of unshed tears and unfathomable depths of betrayal.  The hobbit's heart clenched sharply.  He'd had no other choice, but that didn't make the situation any easier.

  
He'd tried to explain, to make Thorin see.  The king was changed and finally now, here at the end, the hobbit understood Gandalf's warning.  A chill was creeping up his spine and he suddenly knew he wasn't going to survive this.  The dwarf he so desperately admired wasn't anywhere to be found within the mountain.  Instead there was another with eyes colder than frostbitten winds and expression as relentless as pure stone.  Yes, these were surely Bilbo's last moments in the land of the living.  He'd survived the entire journey only to die at the hands of the leader they'd all followed.

  
Suddenly those powerful hands snatched him forward so recklessly that he almost slammed into the strong form of the dwarf king.  The air was wrenched from the hobbit's lungs and he grimaced and squirmed, trying in vain to get free.  He was a remarkably brave hobbit but he also would prefer to live.  "Why?" the low word was whispered with deadly softness that drifted to his ears with a razor's edge of promise.   

  
Why?  Hadn't he already explained?  Couldn't Thorin see that he was only trying to save them?

 

Now the dwarf was demanding to know _why_ while looking at the hobbit as though the answer wouldn't matter at all.  Either way Bilbo knew he was a predator's prey in the arms of the king.  The others of the company had slowly backed away, probably without consciously realizing it, leaving Bilbo quite outmatched in strength.  Leaving him to his inevitable death.

  
He stared up at the dwarf, frowning but determined.  "For you," he finally spoke.  "I did it for you, Thorin."  For Thorin, for the company.  For all of them.  

  
The king's eyes narrowed and he roughly pulled the smaller being closer still.  Bilbo grit his teeth against the harsh treatment.  "That explains nothing," he snarled.  "Answer me!"

  
The hobbit made a sound of protest and tried again unsuccessfully to break away.  "Don't you see, you impossible, idiotic dwarf!" his voice was raised in frustration and echoed from the walls, likely loudly enough for their entire audience below to hear, elves, men and a wizard combined.  "I did it for you!" he shouted, well beyond the point of caring.  This was mad, all of it!  And he was growing tired of being roughly handled.   "I did it for you because..."  He suddenly stopped and let out a breath, voice hushing.  "Because...."  

  
Thorin was watching expectantly.  The others were staring at them with horror and there was an entire army of elves that could slay them with arrows within a matter of seconds, but none of it mattered.  Even though Thorin's life had been reduced to dragon sickness the king deserved the truth.  Maybe one day the noble dwarf he'd once known would return from beneath gold's curse, and then he'd understand at last.  

  
Bilbo Baggins knew he was about to die and the truth was all that was left to tell.  "Because I love you, Thorin," he finally whispered, and a broken sound rushed from his own lungs.  Thorin gasped and released him so unexpectedly that the hobbit nearly fell to the ground.  Instead he stumbled backwards before catching himself against rough stone, looking up at the taller figure in misery.

  
It pained him terribly to confess it.  He hadn't even had a chance to to admit it to himself let alone to Thorin or the others.  He knew he admired and respected the dwarf immensely, but to actually admit to loving him was beyond anything he'd ever dared to think about. And now that he'd said it out loud that love rushed forward, almost strong enough to make him dizzy with the truth of it. He loved Thorin but everything had gone wrong - everything was falling apart and Bilbo was powerless to stop it.  He couldn't even save the one he loved from himself let alone the army below that was waiting to destroy him.  

  
Thorin stood staring and silent, a slight gap between his parted lips.  He was visibly shaken by the admission, looking completely lost and bewildered and not at all like the foreboding and threatening figure of only moments ago.  Minutes passed and they simply watched each other.  There was tension in the air all around them and Bilbo was too distraught to wonder what would happen next.

  
Then without warning he was wrenched from his feet again, this time dragged to the ledge overlooking the land below.  He gasped and gazed out at the thousands who watched them, sure they were about to witness his end at the hands of the dwarf he'd just confessed his love to.  

  
"This is your doing, Thranduil!" Thorin's voice boomed from behind the hobbit.  "You've poisoned him against me and lured him to do your bidding!"  The dwarf forced Bilbo closer so that he was pressed to his chest.  
"He is mine and mine alone.  You've stolen the arkenstone but you will not. have. _my_ hobbit."  There was such simmering hatred in his tone that the hobbit shuddered, panic and dismay over the escalating situation making his heart race uncomfortably.  The sun was glinting into his eyes in such a way that he couldn't see the reactions of the faces gazing up at them.

  
Unexpectedly, Thorin forced him around to face him.  One minute Bilbo was able to breathe the cool air of the mountain, the next he was smothered in a kiss so powerful that he would have lost his footing if Thorin hadn't kept his arm possessively around him.  He tried to gasp against the lips that devoured him but couldn't.  He couldn't breathe at all!  He'd never been kissed like this in all his life, as though the dwarf was branding him with his mouth.  

  
Bilbo's lips were forced to part for a heated tongue that drew a shaking groan from his throat.  He'd expected Thorin to kill him in some other way, to throw him to the rocks perhaps, but not like this.  Not with a kiss.  At least it seemed a good way to die somewhere in Bilbo's foggy mind.

  
And then it was over, both of them panting and their foreheads pressed together.  For just a moment Bilbo could pretend, eyes squeezed closed, that they were somewhere else.  Anywhere else, sharing their first kiss without audiences, or armies, or anyone watching.  Without dragon sickness.  He could pretend..

  
"Dwalin!" Thorin's voice suddenly cut through his daydreams as he pulled away and called out, shattering the fantasy and leaving the hobbit standing alone in the cold wind.

  
Bilbo watched the strong figure emerge from the shadows of the wall, expression wary.  "Aye."

  
Thorin had a look so determined that it could cut steel.  "We're to be married.  _At once_."  

  
"What?!" The question echoed identically from Dwalin and Bilbo, the latter paling with shock.  Thorin expected them to be married?  _Now?!_

  
"I'll show that snide, prancing twig head that the hobbit is mine," he announced loudly as though giving a war speech, glancing at each of the company in a way that dared them to defy him.  Not a word was spoken and each remained silent in shock. 

  
Until once again a hobbit showed bravery.  "Aren't you forgetting to ask me something?" Bilbo huffed boldly and the king whirled around to face him with a frown. 

  
"What?"  There was clear confusion on the handsome face, and the company's slightest member wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry over the ridiculous situation.  This had to be a dream.  Or even a nightmare!  Perhaps they were all back in Laketown and Bilbo was delirious with fever, and none of it was actually happening.  If only.

  
"You haven't asked me to marry you, Thorin.  I'm not sure what dwarven tradition calls for, but it seems rather rude to assume someone will marry you without asking." Never mind the fact that this was hardly the time to discuss a marriage.  They were on the verge of being attacked by an entire army, for crying out loud!

 

"You're mine," the king drew near again with a snarl.  "You belong to me and I will have you as my consort."  Bilbo could see he wouldn't be allowed any say in the matter, which was hardly surprising at the moment.  However, he suddenly recalled something from earlier.

 

Reaching into his pocket he slowly drew out the acorn he'd carried from Beorn's gardens.  The effect was immediate as Thorin's gaze flickered to the small object, the harsh lines of his face easing subtly as he looked at the trinket fondly.  "Do you remember what I said, Thorin?  The good and the bad...I want to remember all of it."  With soft steps he moved closer to the king.  "If we're to be married, I want it to be part of the good memories.  The very best in fact."

 

Thorin watched him in wonder, not for the first time.  He reached out to trace a beardless cheek with a calloused fingertip.  "Then you would have me?" he finally asked quietly, and there was such vulnerability and affection in his eyes that Bilbo almost gasped in surprise.  For one fleeting moment the dwarf who'd captured his heart had returned.  If only it could last.  If only he could find a way to make him stay.

 

Bilbo recognized this as being the closest to a proper marriage proposal he could hope for.  He also realized that this could save them all.  Not the arkenstone, but maybe, just maybe, _this_.  With a sudden bright smile the hobbit nodded, hair bouncing in the sweeping wind.  "Of course.  Of course I'll have you."  _'Until madness parts us,_ ' a bittersweet thought whispered within his mind.

 

Suddenly Bilbo was drawn into a hug so powerful that he could scarcely breathe, his neck nuzzled warmly with lowly uttered promises.  "I'll have you beside me at the throne.  You'll never leave my side.  Never again will you stray to that elven filth.  You'll be dressed in jewels and you'll be mine forever.  My burglar.  My hobbit..."

  
"Enough!" a harsh voice suddenly cried out from below.  Bilbo turned in time to see the elven king looking up at them as though ready to burst into flame.  "Enough with this ridiculous charade.  It's all very romantic that the dwarf and the halfling need to get a room, but we've more important matters at hand."  He held up the arkenstone, glinting mockingly at them in the sunlight.  "Or have you forgotten so quickly?"

  
The embrace ended as Thorin let out a growl and tore forward toward the ledge, but anything that was about to be said in retaliation was interrupted by a welcome and familiar voice.  Bilbo let out a deep sigh of relief. 

 

"Now wait just a minute," Gandalf somehow spoke urgently and calmly all at once.  "I do believe I've heard something about a wedding, and I seem to recall that weddings are moments to celebrate, not to discuss matters of war."

 

One of Thranduil's flawless and immortal eyebrows furrowed in outrage.  "A wedding?  But that's impossible.  There can't be a wedding," he hissed.  Bard was frowning and glancing between the two uncomfortably.

 

"Oh yes, yes.  A wedding."  The wizard nodded with one of his secretive smiles.  "There's nothing impossible about it.  A wedding there will be, and we are all bound to acknowledge this happy occasion."

 

The elf's usually cool exterior was barely held together in fury, for everyone knew that weddings were sacred events that couldn't be disrupted for any reason whatsoever.  All races of middle earth honored the tradition.  It was something that bound them all together and would bring shame and infamy to anyone who dared defy it.

 

"Ah, and I seem to remember something else," Gandalf's voice boomed more loudly this time.  "Dwarves are especially fond of weddings.  In fact dwarven weddings are known for being," he paused with a sly twinkle in his eyes, "rather lengthy." 

 

Lengthy?  What did Gandalf mean by lengthy, Bilbo wondered.  He frowned and glanced at Thorin and the other dwarves, taking note of their dawning expressions.  He suddenly knew this would be a wedding like no other.  Not only because it was the wedding of a dwarf and hobbit, with a freshly killed dragon in the distance and an elven army to witness it. 

 

He looked now between the dwarf king's smug smile and Thranduil's silent rage.  A wedding and a battle were beginning all at once.


	2. Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where love sickness is an actual thing, Bilbo gets 'the talk,' and there's an unexpected arrival.
> 
>  
> 
> WELL, I underestimated this story. We haven't even gotten to the actual wedding in this chapter, so there will definitely be more chapters in the future. You'll notice I'm taking liberties with the timeline. Prepare for more Thranduil drama soon! And a real wedding. There will also be a few surprise romances that I didn't list in the tags because I want it to be a *surprise*.
> 
> And please kindly point out any mistakes. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter.

Hobbits loved weddings.  They were joyous occasions filled with cheer, fun and celebration along with dancing, tables heaped with food, and drinks aplenty.  They often lasted an entire day and night combined, sometimes two or three if there was enough food.  It all depended on the food really.  

  
Watching the dwarves Bilbo had to wonder if they were preparing for a true battle after all and not a wedding.  At least it wouldn't be any sort of wedding he was familiar with.

  
Armor was polished and mended, weapons sharpened, and the forges of Erebor were brought to life with heat and clanging metal.  At least there were songs to soften the mood.  Songs that could be heard echoing from the steep, dank walls of the newly reclaimed mountain kingdom throughout all hours of the day.  Most were in khuzdul so that the hobbit was left wondering what on earth they could possibly mean by it.  Did they sing of love?  Did they sing of battles and hardships? Perhaps he'd never know.

  
Explanations were scarce and Thorin, true to his word, often kept Bilbo close at his side.  Sometimes that meant standing beside the dwarf at the throne for hours while the king stared at him silently with an unusually dreamy smile.  Bilbo had discovered it was impossible to pry conversation from his betrothed in those moments, Thorin watching him as though he was a prized jewel and not his future husband and consort.  There would be long sighs and a few whispered mutterings from the king, and that was the extent of their exchanges during those times.  

  
Sometimes thick fingers would drift to Bilbo's hair, stroking and petting for countless hours.  His ears, cheeks, and neck were all explored with such open adoration that the hobbit didn't know how to respond.   While it was strangely soothing it was also distracting, not to mention that it left him rather breathless and flushed.  When Bilbo had tried to return the affectionate touches Thorin had gently pried his hands away before continuing with his own petting.  It puzzled the hobbit terribly and made him wonder when, if ever, the touching would become mutual.  For he was hardly an innocent and being touched in such a way led to many unseemly thoughts and desires.

  
It was as though the dwarf had fallen into a daze and couldn't be reached, lost somewhere far away from the world around him.  The arkenstone seemed to be a distant memory to the king, and not a word was spoken of Bilbo's transgression.  The dwarf scarcely seemed concerned that the army of elves remained outside the gates or that there hadn't been any news of the whereabouts of Azog.  Thorin especially wasn't worried that their small store of supplies was dwindling as each day passed. The strong, fierce spirit of the king and warrior had fallen so far under the spell of dragon sickness that he was nowhere to be found.

  
While Thorin's new and worrisome behavior was a welcome change from the harsh and unrelenting treatment he'd shown above the gates it was still concerning.  Bilbo had to wonder if this was how all soon to be married dwarves behaved under the grip of gold sickness.  The only thing that seemed to draw forth Thorin's darker side was his possessiveness of Bilbo or any mention of Thranduil.  Yet even when the elf king was brought up the subject only received a fleeting snarl or passing glare before he retreated back to his dreamlike state.  

  
To make matters worse Bilbo was growing deeply afraid that Thorin would starve them all and not even notice.  They'd been given supplies before leaving Laketown but that was only meant to last weeks at most.  Every time he tried to broach the subject with the king it was brushed aside with a soft smile and a simple, "All will be well."

  
The hobbit hadn't found the right moment to discuss his concerns with any of the others.  When he and the king weren't together he was guarded closely by Dwalin, who had been assigned the duty of protecting the company's smallest member and future consort of Erebor.  And perhaps it was to prevent him from sneaking off again, which Bilbo refrained from doing lest he raise Thorin's suspicions.  It would have been nice to be able to hide under the invisibility of the ring occasionally instead of being followed everywhere.  He also longed to slip outside the mountain for a breath of fresh air and to seek Gandalf's counsel.  He knew it would be devastatingly unwise however.  So he was stuck with Dwalin, who usually offered him as much conversation as a stone.  At least there were still the others, though they kept their distance from the hobbit unless safely within a group, not daring to provoke Thorin's jealousy by being caught alone with his betrothed.  

  
It wasn't all bad however.  During the nights they all remained together as they had along the journey, sleeping in a single cavernous room with small fires lit to warm them.  It was decided that it was unsafe to split up inside the mountain until further restoration progressed.  While much of the kingdom had been preserved through the years of dragon occupation it would still require work to make it livable again.  That and the sleeping quarters were covered in a thick layer of dust and grime from years of neglect.  With a wrinkled nose Bilbo had personally agreed that nobody should sleep in them until everything was washed.  Perhaps washed twice even.   

  
So it was the entire company together again at night, and the hobbit felt remarkably at home like that.  Together they'd sing and celebrate while eating their rations, and Bilbo was genuinely surprised to discover that Thorin could play a harp.  The first few strums had been painfully out of tune after sitting for years in a dark and forgotten corner, but soon enough it became clear that the king had skill with the instrument.  None of the others remarked on the way the dwarf's eyes never left Bilbo as he strummed and sang, blue gaze glimmering in the firelight.

   
Later, when everyone would drift to sleep, there was the familiar sound of snoring and an entirely new experience of having strong arms wrapped securely around him.  The king and the hobbit had settled into the routine of sharing a bedroll, with Thorin making it abundantly clear that Bilbo would be kept tightly in his arms throughout the night.  Bilbo hadn't felt so warm and relaxed at night since leaving Bag End, or perhaps ever, and the first few nights were spent simply basking in each others' closeness.  However such closeness brought with it a tension and reminded the hobbit of all of Thorin's lingering, petting touches during the day and the way he'd kissed him so thoroughly at the rampart for all to see.  Their first and only kiss.   

  
Those memories made his imagination stir, among other things.  After a number of chaste nights of cuddling and days of relentless staring and stroking he decided he was being slowly driven insane.  He could take no more.  So came a night when Bilbo gave in to his longing and cast propriety aside.  He shifted in the dwarf king's arms until they were facing one another.  Then he slid his fingers into braided locks and pressed their mouths together desperately.  This time Thorin didn't resist.

  
After that there was rarely a moment while alone together when they weren't locked in a passionate embrace.  They kissed within the shadows of the halls, around pillars and against stone.  Fingers would be tangled in each others hair, clothing bunched and wrinkled from exploring touches, with low sounds for only their ears to hear.  They kissed on the throne with Bilbo straddling Thorin's lap and the dwarf's strong fingers gripping the hobbit's rear.  They kissed most of all at night on their bedroll, the wet sound of it mingling with breathy gasps, careless as to whether the others were listening.

  
And still Bilbo couldn't have enough.  He craved more but every attempt to find the right moment was thwarted.  

  
One night Gloin had a sudden coughing fit which was followed by the loudest snoring Bilbo had ever experienced, reminding him unpleasantly of the stone giants.  That destroyed the mood.  Another time Kili discovered them behind one of the pillars in the hall and had made disgusted and overly dramatic gagging sounds until he actually began to choke on his own spit.  The mood vanished without question.  Then there was the instance where Balin had walked in on them in the throne room.  That alone was enough to stop them.  Another night Bilbo could've sworn that every single dwarf in the company was snoring as loudly as blaring trumpets.  Since when did they _all_ snore?!

  
The hobbit was becoming increasingly frustrated and moody, and he was honestly beginning to suspect that they were being purposely disrupted.    

  
The effects of his frustration were taking a visible toll too.  He was losing sleep, his already tattered clothing appearing more ragged than ever.  His hair was on end, curls sticking up all over the place with dark circles under his eyes.  The hobbit looked even more of a mess than when he'd fallen sick in Laketown.  That and he'd begun to pace in the halls, hands clenching and unclenching in distress.  He was hardly the presentation of a happy husband to be.  

  
There was a breaking point during breakfast one morning.  Dwalin and Thorin had eaten briskly and taken their leave to tend to some matter or other.  The others took their time and ate at a more leisurely pace.  When everyone finished and began to stand to clean up, Ori tripped and stumbled on a crack in the flooring.  His spoon was flung from the bowl clutched in his hands and landed in Bilbo's hair, smearing streaks of porridge into his curls.  

  
The young dwarf had immediately apologized and Bilbo waved it away with a grimace.  As the hobbit tried to clean the clumps of gooey food from his hair with his sleeve he announced with a bristling tone, "Perhaps if dwarves had the sense to carry handkerchiefs this type of mess wouldn't happen!"

  
The company glanced at each other meaningfully.  Their hobbit was becoming more cross and uncharacteristically prickly with each day, and everyone knew why.  

  
"It's time we give him the talk," Bofur spoke with a solemn nod.

  
Bilbo frowned and paused his grooming, some of his annoyance dissipating with curiosity.  "The talk?"  What could they possibly mean?  Did they want to discuss Thorin's recent behavior?  Was it the supplies?  Surely it was the supplies.

  
Balin cleared his throat.  "Very well then."  Everyone watched him in suspense.  "Its come to our attention that you and Thorin are...on friendly terms."

  
"Kissing each other senseless is more like it!" Dori piped up.

  
"Canoodling is what it is," Nori remarked.  

  
The hobbit's skin began to flush.  "So this is about Thorin and I..." He shifted and coughed uncomfortably.  "About our affections."

  
"Mahal knows how obvious those are!" Fili snickered with Kili's sour laughter following.

  
"I'm already scarred for life and they haven't even... - " the youngest of the brothers muttered under his breath with what Bilbo interpreted as a lewd gesture.

  
"What we mean to say," Balin continued more loudly, "is that while it's perfectly natural for certain affections to be indulged where love blossoms...-"

  
Oh no, no, this couldn't be happening.  "Wait, wait," Bilbo held up his hand with a stern expression.  "Now, I know I may be younger than the rest of you in years, but believe me when I say that I'm of age by hobbit standards.  I've already had this discussion in my lifetime and it's really not necessary to repeat it."  He could distinctly recall his father sitting him down to discuss the 'bees and the flowers.'  Once was awkward enough, thank you.  

  
"Then you know about the love sickness?  Do hobbits have it too?" Bofur questioned with clear surprise, and in fact all of the dwarves were glancing at each other with confusion upon their faces.

  
"Love sickness?" Bilbo was thrown off yet again.  They weren't the only ones puzzled by the bizarre conversation.  

  
"Aye, laddie," Balin nodded, half smiling, "love sickness."

  
And so Bilbo learned that dragon sickness wasn't the only 'sickness' dwarves suffered.  Apparently they could fall under an actual love sickness, usually during the courting stages of a romance when love was reciprocated and declared.  Which explained everything about Thorin's recent behavior.  He wasn't displaying signs of dragon sickness but rather _love sickness_.  Once again Bilbo was torn between laughing and crying at the absurd situation.  Just how many 'sicknesses' were dwarves capable of having?  And why did everything have to be so dramatic with them?  They couldn't simply fall in love, or even be infatuated, it had to make them sick!

  
The good news was that Balin believed Thorin's previous ailment had been overcome by this new sickness for the time being.  However, most inconveniently love sickness would dissipate once the feelings were physically consummated. Bilbo had paled with horror and embarrassment when the wisest of the dwarves explained that particular detail. It meant the entire group knew about the state of their sex life!  Or lack thereof..  But even worse it also meant that Thorin could fall under the gold's spell again if the love sickness faded.

  
"So you've been doing this on purpose after all," Bilbo concluded out loud.  "You've been preventing Thorin and I from..."  His ears reddened slightly, but it spoke of his comfort levels with the group that he continued.  "From indulging."

  
The dwarves shifted, coughed and exchanged glances.  "I'm afraid so," Balin confirmed gently.  "We know it isn't what you want to hear, but it's the only way to keep the dragon's curse from surfacing again."

  
The hobbit sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  "For how long then?  Am I to be expected to keep my distance from Thorin even after we're married?"  And for just how long could he tolerate this dazed, spaced out version of the king?

  
"Not forever, laddie.  Not forever.  Just for long enough," he gave the hobbit a comforting pat on the shoulder.  

At least this version of Thorin _was_ preferable to the dragon sick one.

 

Suddenly Dwalin's booming voice disrupted his thoughts.  "They've arrived!  And wait 'til you see what they've brought." 

The group suddenly lit with buzzing energy.  "Dain's here!" Kili shouted excitedly and everyone was rushing to the outer wall, trailed closely by a confused hobbit.

"Dain?" he asked nobody in particular.  What did this mean?  Who had arrived?

 

As he peered out over the stone ledge he was greeted with the sight of a long, winding caravan of dwarves trekking up the mountain.  With them was a hefty string of supply carts filled with food, tools, material for clothing, and an endless number of other items.  Bilbo gaped and watched in wonder.

 

They wouldn't be starving after all.


End file.
